Been a while.

To be blunt, it hasn't been the best fortnight.

Here's some fluff and a memory.

Peace.

GROWTH: PAST AND PRESENT

The roads are quiet as Shadow rides home that chill spring evening, a welcome refreshment after being cooped up in Towers' stale office for the better part of three hours. It cuts through the fur of his face and blasts up the cuffs of his leather jacket, stray gusts catching within the bounds of his upturned collar before dragging through his quills.

Jasmine purrs beneath him as they traverse the highway, their leisurely pace an unintentional outward expression of how content he is with the meeting's outcome. The final version of the contract was heavily simplified, and most of Amy's careful edits had been accepted without much opposition. When required, Rouge had avidly fought his corner, forcing the Commander to omit clauses that did little other than threaten his or Amy's safety.

He hopes Amy is alert enough on his return to discuss those changes, to be sure she's as happy as he is with the document, though having already signed the official copy there was little that could be done if his Commanding Officer managed to sneak a dodgy clause past Rouge's intense scrutiny.

A deep rumble of another engine confirms his babysitters have finally caught up, but he doesn't mind too much in his current state; he feels as close to euphoric as ever, the high akin to - yet more potent than - the buzz of a completed mission or the thrill of a high-speed race.

Was this how Sonic always felt? Is that why he was always so infuriatingly chipper, because he was vibrating beneath his skin? Shadow supposes so, because he has an overwhelming and uncharacteristic desire to smile and he doesn't even want to repress it. He's going home to a beautiful girl pregnant with his child, he's reconciled with Rouge to the extent their old banter has returned, and his contract is seemingly devoid of potentially lethal clauses.

He feels happy, and thoroughly enjoying the sensation.

Perhaps the only concern he harbours regards Amy, not the woman herself but the insinuated repercussions of previous, poorly conceived actions. More irritatingly, due to his favourable social standing and residence beyond Human jurisdiction, no action was being sought against the hedgehog that instigated it all.

The thought sombers his mood slightly. Crimson irises unfocus from the monotony of Highway 57 to reflect inward on the relationship he and Sonic had developed over the last six months, a slight frown unconsciously returning to his muzzle in thought.

It had been obvious Sonic hadn't approached him of his own accord, even if that's what he still claimed to this day if asked. His knock had been hesitant, his smile a grimace and his quills prickled in agitation. He hadn't wanted to be there, and Shadow had told him in no uncertain terms the feeling was mutual by slamming the door in his face.

Ever the persistent pincushion, the blue imbecile turned up every night for three weeks with dinner, drinks, movies or a combination of all three. On the third Thursday, the ebony hybrid caved and invited him in on the pretense he'd stop irritating him every night afterwards.

Somehow, by the time he left, Shadow had agreed to accompany him to Rouge's in a fortnight. And they'd gone out every other Thursday ever since.

He was certain Rouge put his rival up to it, but as time passed he found he appreciated the socialization on a reliable schedule. While most of their interactions still centred around their rivalry - if extrapolated to winning a game of bowling or eating the most in one sitting - it became enjoyable to the extent he even missed the hedgehog if he had to cancel.

Now, knowing what the other's impulsive nature and poor boundaries had caused Sonic to do, the friendship seems tainted. The thought of allowing the Faker anywhere near Amy makes his stomach burn, but isn't certain whether it's disdain for the blue blur's lack of self control or protectiveness towards Amy at the root of his unease.

Pulling off Highway 57 towards Station Square with a gentle sigh, he tries to recapture the positivity he'd felt previously. It seems to him happiness always comes with extra baggage - emotional and physical alike, given he endured both while on the Ark. As such, he must consider if the perks outweigh the detrimental factors.

In this instance, they do for Shadow. That thought is enough to lighten his mood once again.

oOoOo

"So, when a male and a female love each other very much…"

The neutral scowl on the ebon's features deepens so fast, Amy can barely contain the giggles that erupt in her chest. She presses a palm to her face to at least hide the smirk, but the snort of laughter that escapes her lips echoes inside the minimalist apartment.

Despite the heavy frown, she feels giddy rather than afraid; the expression borders on exhausted detachment rather than simmering anger as a hard sigh blows out his nostrils. "Sorry! Sorry, I couldn't resist!" Her words are punctuated with giggling hiccups as she composes herself. She takes a deep breath and rests her forearms back on the breakfast bar as she catches his gaze.

"So you did some research, huh?" A curt nod is all she gets before he turns back to his dinner - reheated lasagne, as he'd arrived home some time after she thought he would - and she tilts her head, the amusement melting from her face as his own stays tight in agitation. "...I really am sorry, Shadow. I didn't mean to hit a nerve…"

Being stuck at home all day she hasn't bothered to dress, only changing her comfortable tracksuit for another baby blue set that doesn't smell of dry semen. The building's artificial heating making socks and gloves unnecessary to remain warm even in the spring evenings, and she revels in the sensation of cool air of her extremities.

Back in Knothole, to do so was both impractical in addition to being viewed as indecent. Having the choice is novel, and she's opted to utilise it.

When he doesn't look back or accept the apology, she stares down at her hands, entwining gloveless fingers together. It's easy to forget Shadow's upbringing wasn't normal - even with his behavioural quirks and poor Mobian general knowledge - and now it seems her attempts at playful teasing have upset him.

The scrape of cutlery on china are the only sounds that punctuate their silence for some time. Ashamed of her ignorance, Amy keeps her eyes downcast until he places the knife and fork down on an empty plate. He catches her gaze from the corner of his own field of vision before speaking softly. "I have questions, if I may enquire..?"

A weak smile curves her lips slightly and she nods, glad for the release of tension between them. Shadow pauses to take a drink before turning to regard her fully. All signs of annoyance have left him by the time he speaks, features more attuned to curiosity and focus. "Why don't Mobians have monthly cycles, like Humans?"

An easy question to start, at least. Her smile becomes more confident as she repeats the basics Vanilla once taught her. "Mobians are derived from lots of different family trees, some of which are more closely related than others. That's why canine females - foxes and dogs, for example - tend towards other canines. If there's multiple mates their bodies will accept more similar genes in an urchin over something entirely different, though cross species urchins usually express the genetics of one parent, not both."

"Usually." The dark hedgehog repeats, raising an eyebrow before sipping his water, obviously intrigued.

Her smile falters slightly. "Hybrids are very rare, but they can happen. Most of them usually end up abandoned in orphanages, or worse…" Shadow wrinkles his nose slightly at the notion and she nods solemnly, looking down as her voice quietens and her hands wring together. "The Heat makes some Mobians do stupid things, like… like sleeping with a lot of people. It's the downside of only having to deal with it once a year, I guess? It's more intense."

The silence that falls feels heavy and it makes Amy fidget. A glance at him through thick lashes shows him to look contemplative. She casts her gaze back to the kitchen counter as she continues in a dull tone. "Humans are all related to the Primate family, whose other living branches almost all have sporadic fertility throughout the year at similar time intervals, mostly monthly. They're just wired differently, that's it…"

In her periphery, she notes the slight nod of ebony that accompanies a light grunt of understanding, but it barely registers as she digests the information again herself. The Heat was notorious for driving males and females of many species (canines specifically, if the urban tales were to be believed) to indulge in promiscuity. Something that's been addressed multiple times in ad breaks on television while she occupied herself in Shadow's absence was common sense, personal safety in public and protection from venereal disease during the six week Heat.

She wasn't the first to surrender to her urges - nor would be be the last - and considering these news bulletins also addressed safe waypoints and curfews for minors, it was likely she wasn't the first to fail in that particular category either. It's equal parts mildly reassuring and quite upsetting to realise the scale of which such issues must prevail in a large city such as Station Square.

Glass clinking on the countertop pulls her from her thoughts. She looks up and straight into an intense crimson gaze, poorly concealed concern adding an awkward twist to his mouth. He must have asked something. She grimaces and splays her fingers on the cool kitchen island. "Can you… repeat that? I was in my own little world for a moment…"

Shadow's expression doesn't change as he holds her gaze with his own, likely unconvinced she's telling an entire truth. When she only stares at him expectantly rather than explain he seems to humour her poor acting, much to Amy's relief. "What purpose does Marking serve in Mobians? Is it ineffective on Humans?"

Her smile comes easier as she hides behind the conversation. "Human hormone levels are lower and short-lived, so don't need much help to be controlled. Mobian levels build up and only stop briefly when you…" She clears her throat slightly as heat suddenly surges into her cheeks that forces her to look away. "When you… uh…"

"Have sex." His tone is bland, as if describing the weather, another indicator of his strange upbringing in regard to the taboo. For Amy, despite having engaged in the act with the hedgehog himself, just the mention of the word brings a flood of embarrassment tinged with just the smallest hint of arousal.

Unsure if its his tone or the intimate subject matter, Amy finds her gaze drawn back to his regardless, the slight confusion at her reaction evident in those blood-coloured irises. Curiosity eats at her, demanding she ask what his own early experiences with intimacy were and why he's so detached from it, but instead presses her lips together to keep the questions contained.

Despite his outward benign nonchalance, it's becoming obvious Shadow isn't devoid of emotion but is instead a private person. One she doesn't wish to lose through simple impatience on her part.

Let him come to you, she reminds herself. He'll tell you when he's ready.

Still faced with his curiosity she holds his gaze and continues. "Marking for female Mobians helps us stay sensible; it keeps pheromones at more manageable level, and makes the Marker's scent more attractive while other males seem less appealing. If Sonic had…" She sighs and looks back at her hands. "If he'd just Marked me then left Knothole for the Season, none of this would have happened…"

Recent revelations of his character still fresh, the gloved hand on her cheek is still unexpected. She casts her gaze through her lashes to see a softness overcome the ebony's usually sharp features as he draws near, closing the distance between them as strong fingers stroke her jaw.

There's no time to contemplate the action before lips meet, tan muzzles barely touching in the most tender kiss as his fingers breeze across fur to cup her cheek. The contact lasts seconds yet feels but a moment, her mind pleasantly empty when he pulls away once more to speak. "If it's any consolation, I'm glad he didn't."

His Mark still fresh, she's spared the flush of hormones that would've followed such an encounter just yesterday. She smiles softly, one the more reserved hedgehog mirrors, and raises her own hand to his muzzle to brush the fur there with a thumb. "Me too."

oOoOo

Frustration: the feeling of being upset or annoyed as a result of being unable to change or achieve something.

The hybrid closes the dictionary with a sigh whilst being careful not to rip the pages with exposed claws. Scattered around him are 'picture cards', left where they landed half an hour before when he once again got frustration with their simplicity and threw them up in the air.

It's been fourteen Brights - "Days," he corrects himself out loud, practicing the feel of the word on his lips - and 'nights' since the younglings visited. Fourteen miserably long and almost intolerable increments of time he still can't fully comprehend.

The tall humans, 'scientists', they called themselves, aren't too forthcoming on actively teaching him anything that didn't relate to their daily activities. 'Needles' go into his 'skin' to take 'blood' or deliver 'medicine'. The moving floor gave him 'exercise'. They grey mush they force him to ingest is 'food'. The liquids that burn his skin and 'mouth' are 'acids'.

They had become more gentle, at least. Being able to walk between 'labs' to other 'experiments' rather than being dragged, the 'muzzle' removed, was a relief.

After that day, he'd returned to his 'room' to find 'presents' from the younglings. 'Book', the young scientist with him called one of them, kneeling down and opening it to show him the small representations of spoken words within. 'Picture cards', he'd named the unbound papers with large colourful images above single printed words.

At first, the colours alone had Shadow almost hypnotised. He'd never seen something so… different. Everything in his life was white, grey and black until those images. He'd taken the very-most top one from the pile to stare at it, at the visual of the youngling with long fur on her head and flowing fabric coating her body, what he assumed to be her word printed below it: MARIA.

From then, he'd spent every waking moment he wasn't required to take part in experiments learning words. Using the book - 'dictionary' was written on the front - alongside the picture cards, it was a matter of days before he could convey some of his needs to the scientists. 'No need' became the cornerstone of his vocabulary in regard to food and sleep, and soon he had a 'lamp' of his own so he could learn through the night.

Problem was, he ran out of material within the week. The picture cards were easy to understand, and the lone young scientist that took a shine to his education agreed he was beyond them after just five nights. They managed a short discussion of what the dictionary was that night, and since then Shadow had been struggling through it to widen his vocabulary.

Now he's quite certain he's fluent enough to attempt to talk with the younglings, should they ever come back, but he's stagnated. The dictionary was good, but it wasn't conducive for actual speech; he's able to learn some phrases from the scientists as they speak to one another, but his grasp on the use of some kinds of words is poor: 'And'. 'Because'. 'With'. They all seem to join pieces together, but placing them in is hard without examples.

These words are also absent in his picture cards and, after trying to make a whole string of words with them and failing due to the lack of these joining words, he'd thrown them in the air in anger and turned back to the dictionary to find an adequate word for the emotion coursing through his body.

'Frustration' fit nicely. Without more materials, his brain feels muzzled. He's frustration. "Frustrate-ed," he corrects as he reads through its description. Living things got 'frustrated'.

The sound of metal doors opening draws his attention away from the book and into the darkness beyond his room. Day isn't due to start for a while yet, the night having only started a short time ago, and a hopeful nervousness creeps through Shadow's body as he sets the dictionary aside and gets to bare feet.

Once accustomed to the blackness beyond his lamp, the hedgehog's acute night vision easily picks out the wide, stout frame as it enters and begin to close the distance between Shadow's room and the entrance as the doors close heavily in its wake.

Sadness. Disappointment. These are the first emotions to pass through his mind as he realises it isn't the younglings. His quills droop slightly and the attempt at a smile on his muzzle returns to the disinterested line he usually offered scientists. This expression doesn't last long as recognition of the man from the picture cards beneath his feet follows, other emotions giving way to mild anxiety.

The man is short and heavy set, no fur upon his head but large tufts of it below his long curved nose, thick glasses shielding eyes from view. Professor Gerald Robotnik, the Alpha of the scientists he sees everyday, stops a foot short of the metal bars fronting the creature's room. His expression is flat and contemplative, hands pressed into lab coat pockets as he stares at the hybrid in silence.

Shadow's mouth goes dry. He's only met the Alpha once, while defending the younglings from pain when he first awoke. The man had looked much less severe then, fear and concern written in the lines of his determined face as they stared each other down. The Mobian had been ready to rip the man limb from limb until Maria had sounded so scared. Her distraction of his focus had been enough for a needle to slip beneath his pelt, the medicine administered by the Alpha himself.

He supposes Maria must be directly related to him. Being seen to threaten a relation of the Alpha would explain the poor treatment he'd received since, at least before Maria herself had shown him kindness in front of the scientists. But why was the Alpha here now? He never attended procedures, nor had he ever visited his room before.

Then fear again as his brain puts information together. All trepidation leaves him as he tries to put his concerns into words, the majority of his newfound vocabulary still too new to draw upon in times of stress. "Younglings good?"

Gerald raises a bushy eyebrow, but a puff of amusement accompanies the building of a smirk on his lips as his face fur kinks upwards. "They're both fine. Sleeping, actually." Shadow allows himself to relax slightly at the revelation. "No, I'm here to see you, Project Shadow."

He glances back to the elder human as he continues, ears raised and alert at the use of his own personal word. No others have addressed him directly before. "I'm told you've exhibited an exceptional capacity for learning as of late. Maria told me as such almost a year ago, and again two weeks ago, but as she's always been an optimist I'm ashamed to say I disregarded her opinions. Until today, when one of my own employees expressed similar deductions of your mental capacities. I've come to determine them for myself."

Taken by surprise and mildly overwhelmed by his verbosity, Shadow's response begins hesitantly. "Have… have learn. Picture cards. Book!" He picks the aforementioned item up and holds it up for the Professor to see, his tone becoming excited. "Dict-own-airy learn much! Want learn… want learn…" A hole in his vocabulary stops him in his tracks, and he blinks, desperately trying to recall an appropriate word before the Alpha loses interest and leaves him entirely in his 'employees' care once more.

"More." Crimson irises snap to dark glasses as the man speaks. "You want to learn more, to build on the knowledge you've acquired, and in a very short space of time, I might add." Shadow isn't sure of the expression on the other's face. He's seen and identified distaste and surprise alike in the other scientists, but this one is new. The tone is also different, his employees tending towards 'excited' when he outperformed expectations.

He wants to ask about the emotion, but doesn't know how to word it. Silence envelopes them as they hold each other's gaze for a number of minutes, the lack of verbal communication under an unidentified gaze making the hybrid uneasy until the human breaks it. "Maria has a number of books she's grown out of. I'll make certain the rest are brought to you over the next few days."

Shadow doesn't have time to dig out an appropriate response before the man continues, pulling out a small book from his lab coat pocket to look at. "In the meantime, I'd appreciate your cooperation in a number of experiments designed to assess your intellectual and emotional development. If you're as advanced as Maria and Johansson believe, continued confinement could be detrimental to your mental stability."

Again, the man's vocabulary bounces about the hybrid's cranium, unfamiliar ones memorised so they can be found in the dictionary later. He forgets half of them almost immediately when the book is held towards him, though. And there it remains, not between the bars but six inches shy, suspended in the air between them. The book is much smaller than the one he currently possesses, thinner than his little finger and bound with a colourful cover.

"You may enjoy this one." The elder says, though Shadow doesn't look up from the bound paper. "It's one of Maria's favourites, a fairy tale: The Princess and the Pea." He glances up at the Alpha just a moment before his gaze returns to the book just inches from his ownership.

He's been reprimanded harshly for reaching out of his room for things before, something Gerald seems to be aware of as he adds the phrase he's been taught to grant permission: "You may." Inhibitions erased by those familiar words, Shadow presses his body to the bars and ignores the uncomfortable firm coldness they provide as he reaches for the object.

The Alpha relinquishes it without speaking, but he can feel the human's gaze on him as he inspects the cover with bare fingers; the image is unlike those of his picture cards, seemingly embossed on the cover rather than printed, resulting in a strange bumpy texture beneath his touch. The happiness he felt when Maria and Abraham visited comes back for the first time since their departure, and he looks up to the scientists with open thankfulness.

"You're welcome." The phrase means nothing to him, but the tone is kind and the human's lips are doing a smile as he points to the book. "Read it," he adds and turns, disappearing into the darkened room beyond as he walks. "I'll be back in a few hours to assess your progress."

Then he's alone again, the silence both reassuring and oppressing in the wake of the Professor's attention. "The Prin-cess and the Pea." He says the title slowly as he recalls the words, following the flaking gilded words with a fingertip. A flick through the pages reveals enlarged text accompanied by bright illustrations depicting things he's never even heard of: 'Window'. 'Mattresses'. 'Trees'.

He has to look up 'Princess' and 'Pea' to grasp what the book pertains to, as well as 'fairy tale' to realise it is more like a dream written down than real life, fiction to enjoy about people that don't exist. Its an appealing prospect, given his life is hardly enjoyable at the moment, especially now he's intrigued as to why anyone would write a story about a rich woman and a vegetable.

Sinking into a cross-legged sit, the new book propped open in his lap and the dictionary on standby at his left, he turns to the first page and delves into the story gifted to him.

Illustrations slowly defocus as Shadow blinks away the memory, dissolving to become the finely printed text of a cadet file. A discreet glance to the side confirms he's sat at his kitchenette island counter, a half-mug of lukewarm coffee forgotten in his left hand and the remaining three cookies Amy baked to his right.

He looks down at the file and attempts to remember where he lost focus, but the words continue to swim in the wake of the recollection. He brings a hand up to rub at his eyes, willing away the fuzziness before straightening, looking out the large window opposite into semi-darkness as he brings the mug to his lips.

The cooled brew is sweeter than its scalding predecessor. He clicks his tongue against his incisors and swirls the mug before downing the remaining coffee in one swift hit, placing it back on the counter with care as he swallows. Based on natural light and lack of pedestrians or traffic alike outside, he estimates it to be four in the morning.

Amy had gone to bed six hours ago, and would likely awaken with the sunrise in a few hours. The fuschia hedgehog had tried to stay awake later, but decades of an incessant internal rhythm still triumphed for now. She'd be asleep for a while yet, at least two hours before he could subtly persuade her into consciousness without risking life and limb for conversation.

It's strange, to actually seek another's presence after spending so long actively avoiding the company of others, but it's a desire he can't deny. Perhaps Sonic's incessant irritation had softened his resolve, or maybe it was entirely Amy's kindness and pheromones, but silence is beginning to press negatively on his sanity.

More irritatingly, seemingly benign triggers that cause repressed memories to surface are compounding the need for distraction, because they seem to be more prevenant when left to his own thoughts. He wants to remember these events, but their sudden onset and hijack of his entire conscious mind isn't appreciated.

If one were to occur during combat, or even training…

Casting the possibility aside with a grunt of displeasure, Shadow stands, grabs the mug from above using his entire hand and heads into the kitchen proper to brew a fresh round of instant coffee.

He's never lost focus in a fight before. Drawn with Sonic more times than he cares to recollect, never lost a bout against Rouge or Omega and overpowered only once - Infinite had been virtually unstoppable whilst his abilities were fresh, their potency and the element of surprise his most effective weapons - but was loathe to count it given the circumstances.

No, these… memories, ghosts of events long since lost to history, wouldn't be his downfall. He just needs to control them, to modulate them, as he did every other variable in his life; Sonic only bothered him once a week, Towers was bound by contracts and Rouge, Chaotic tension released when unaccompanied in the desert.

Just another variable, he reminds himself as the kettle hisses. Any variable, sentient or otherwise, could be managed when understood. I have the weekend to figure it out. Plenty of time.

With his own contract signed while Amy's sat pending a signature to denote acceptance of her addition to his medical insurance, he was due in Monday morning to start at six sharp, following a pattern of six hour sessions for four days. Paperwork on each candidate - denoting aptitude, improvements, failures and recommendations for their future - was to be filed every week before midnight Saturday morning, leaving the weekend free of contractual commitments.

His cadet list has already fallen to thirty six, a clerical error that submitted only the correct documents but left the extra candidate in Towers' dossier. Within two months he plans to have culled the number back to a maximum of five potently talented or potentially useful ability users to focus on for the remaining four months, whereupon his own contract as well as those of his cadets were up for revision and renewal.

His mate had seemed pretty happy with what she read, if a little concerned about signing her own 'contract of welfare', as Towers had labelled it. They'd agreed to go over the details tomorrow, once she'd slept and eaten to revitalise her, but as far as Shadow could see there wasn't anything malicious hidden in the wording.

There is a 'Previous Convictions' page that references possible containment and restraint orders that could be put upon an individual based on the answers provided, but with neither Tails or Knothole coming forward to demand legal action they could leave it blank.

He knows she's going to question it, and has already scanned a copy of the page into his computer in case she asks for revisions from Towers himself, but to him its a normal part of a contract; his own list of cited and cleared acts against humanity is printed and filed for easy photocopying to save filling in the page every time a contract renewed, the list having not changed since he joined GUN.

Shadow pours himself another coffee and returns to the island stool, grabbing and taking a bite out of a cookie as he locates the last spot he remembers reading in the document. The words are no longer spinning he returns to trudging through the document with mild interest, careful not to drop crumbs on the pages.

Entirely focused on his task, no more memories surface unbidden, the tastes of coffee and chocolate to keep him company until Amy awoke